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ḤAQĪQA AND SHARĪ ʿA IN ISLAM*
René Guénon
Islamic Esoterism
Of all traditional doctrines, perhaps Islamic doctrine most clearly
distinguishes the two complementary parts, which can be labeled
exoterism and esoterism. In Arabic terminology, these are the sharīʿa,
literally the “great way,” common to all, and the ḥaqīqa, literally the
“inward truth,” reserved to an elite, not because of some arbitrary
decision, but by the very nature of things, since not all men possess
the aptitudes or “qualifications” required to reach knowledge of the
truth. To express their respective “outward” and “inward” natures,
exoterism and esoterism are often compared to the “shell” (qishr) and
the “kernel” (lubb), or to the circumference and its center. The sharīʿa
comprises everything that in Western languages would be called
“religious,” and especially the whole of the social and legislative side
which, in Islam, is essentially integrated into the religion. It could be
said that the sharīʿa is first and foremost a rule of action, whereas the
ḥaqīqa is pure knowledge; but it must be well understood that it is this
knowledge that gives even the sharīʿa its higher and deeper meaning and
its true raison d’être, so that even though not all those participating in
the religion are aware of it, the ḥaqīqa is nevertheless its true principle,
just as the center is the principle of the circumference.
But this is not all, for esoterism comprises not only the ḥaqīqa, but
also the specific means for reaching it, and taken as a whole, these means
are called the ṭarīqa, the “way” or “path” leading from the sharīʿa to
the ḥaqīqa. If we return to the symbol of the circumference and its
center, we can say that the ṭarīqa is represented by the radius that runs
from the former to the latter. And this leads us to the following: to
* Editors’ Note: This article comes from two chapters of Guénon’s writings on
Sufism, published in the collection Insights into Islamic Esoterism and Taoism
(Sophia Perennis, 2001).
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each point on the circumference there corresponds a radius, and all the
radii, which are indefinite in number, terminate in the center. It can
thus be said that these radii are so many ṭuruq (plural of ṭarīqa) adapted
to the beings “situated” at the different points on the circumference
according to the diversity of their individual natures. This is why it is
said that “the ways to God are as numerous as the souls of men” (aṭ­
ṭuruqu ila ʾLlāhi ka-nufūsi bani Adam). Thus the “ways” are many,
and differ all the more among themselves the closer they are to their
starting-point on the circumference; but their end is one, as there is
only one center and one truth. Strictly speaking, the initial differences
are effaced along with “individuality” itself (al-innīya, from ana, “I”);
in other words, when the higher states of the being have been attained,
and when the attributes (ṣifāt) of the creature (ʿabd, “slave”)—which
are really limitations—disappear (al-fanāʾ, “extinction”), leaving only
those of Allah (al-baqāʾ, “permanence”), the being becoming identified
with the latter [Divine attributes] in his “personality” or “essence”
(adh-dhāt).
Esoterism, considered thus as comprising both ṭarīqa and ḥaqīqa,
namely means and end, is designated in Arabic by the general term
taṣawwuf, which can only be translated precisely as “initiation”—a
point to which we will return later. Although taṣawwuf can be applied
to any esoteric and initiatic doctrine, regardless of the traditional
form to which it belongs, Westerners have coined the [derivative]
term “Sufism” to designate Islamic esoterism; but, apart from being
completely conventional, this term has the unfortunate disadvantage
of inevitably suggesting by its “ism” suffix, the idea of a doctrine
proper to a particular school, whereas this is not the case in reality,
the only schools in question being the ṭuruq, which basically represent
different methods, without there being any possibility of a fundamental
difference of doctrine, for “the doctrine of Unity is unique” (at-tawḥīdu
wāḥid). As for the derivation of the terms taṣawwuf and “Sufism,” they
obviously come from the word ṣūfī, and here it must first be said that
no one can ever call himself a ṣūfī, except from pure ignorance, for he
proves thereby that he is not truly so, this quality necessarily being a
secret (sirr) between the true ṣūfī and Allah; one can only call oneself
a mutaṣawwuf, a term applied to anyone who has entered upon the
initiatic “way,” whatever the “degree” he may have reached; but the
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ṣūfī, in the true sense of the term, is only the one who has reached the
supreme degree.
Some have sought to assign the most diverse origins to the Arabic
word ṣūfī; but this question is undoubtedly unsolvable from our
present position, and we freely admit that the word has too many
proposed etymologies, of equal plausibility, for only one to be true;
in reality, we must rather see herein a purely symbolic name, a sort
of “cipher,” which, as such, requires no linguistic derivation strictly
speaking; and this is not unique, for one can find comparable cases in
other traditions. As for the so-called etymologies, these are basically
only phonetic resemblances, which, moreover, according to the laws of
a certain symbolism, effectively correspond to relationships between
various ideas which have come to be grouped more or less as accessories
around the word in question. But given the character of the Arabic
language (a character which it shares with Hebrew), the primary and
fundamental meaning of a word is to be found in the numerical values
of the letters; and in fact, what is particularly remarkable is that the
sum of the numerical values of the letters which form the word ṣūfī
has the same number as al-Ḥikmatuʾl-ilahiya, “Divine Wisdom.” The
true ṣūfī is therefore the one who possesses this Wisdom, or, in other
words, he is al-ʿārif bi’Llāh, that is to say “he who knows through
God,” for God cannot be known except by Himself; and this is the
supreme or “total” degree of knowledge or ḥaqīqa.1
1
In a work on taṣawwuf, written in Arabic, but from a very modern perspec­
tive, a Syrian writer so ill acquainted with us as to mistake us for an “orien­
talist,” has taken it into his head to address a rather singular reproach to us:
having somehow read as-Sūfia in place of Ṣūfī (in a special issue of Cahiers
du Sud in 1935 on “Islam and the West”), he imagined that my calculation
was inexact; wishing then to make the calculation himself according to his
own lights, he managed, by way of several errors in the numeric value of the
letters, to arrive (this time as equivalent to aṣ-Ṣūfī, which is still wrong) at
al-ḥakīm al-ilahī, without, moreover, perceiving that, one ya being equal to
two ha’s, these words form exactly the same total as al-ḥakma al-ilahiya!
We know well enough that academic teaching of the present day is ignorant
of the abjad [the alphabet], and is only familiar with the simple grammatical
order of the letters; but just the same, when someone undertakes to treat
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From the preceding, we can draw several important consequences,
the foremost being that “Sufism” is not something that was “added”
to Islamic doctrine as an afterthought and from outside, but, on the
contrary, is an essential part of it, since without it, Islamic doctrine
would be manifestly incomplete, and, what is more, incomplete “from
above,” that is to say in regard to its very principle. The completely
gratuitous supposition of a foreign origin—Greek, Persian, or Indian—is
in any case formally contradicted by the fact that the means of expression
of Islamic esoterism are intimately linked with the very constitution
of the Arabic language; and if there are incontestable similarities with
doctrines of the same order existing elsewhere, these can be explained
quite naturally and without recourse to hypothetical “borrowings,”
for, truth being one, all traditional doctrines are necessarily identical
in their essence, whatever the diversity of the forms in which they are
clothed. As regards this question of origins, it is of little importance
whether the word ṣūfī and its derivatives (taṣawwuf, mutaṣawwuf)
have existed in the language from the beginning or have appeared at
some later juncture, this being a great subject for discussion among
historians; the thing may well have existed before the word, or under
another name, or even without it having been found necessary to give
it one. In any case—and this ought to settle the matter for anyone not
regarding things merely from the outside—tradition expressly indicates
that esoterism, as well as exoterism, proceeds directly from the very
teaching of the Prophet, and, in fact, every authentic and regular ṭarīqa
possesses a silsila or “chain” of initiatic transmission that ultimately
goes back to him through a varying number of intermediaries. Even if,
subsequently, some ṭuruq really did “borrow,” or, better said, “adapt,”
certain details of their particular methods, this has a very secondary
importance, and in no way affects what is essential; and here again
similarities may equally well be explained by the possession of the
same knowledge, especially as regards the “science of rhythm” in its
these questions, such ignorance passes beyond the acceptable limits. Be that
as it may, al-ḥakīm al-ilahī and al-ḥakma al-ilahiya have basically the same
meaning; but the first of these two expressions has a somewhat unusual char­
acter, while the second, as we have indicated, is, on the contrary, completely
traditional.
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various branches. The truth is that “Sufism” is as Arab as the Koran
itself, in which it has its direct principles; but in order to find them
there, the Koran must be understood and interpreted according to the
ḥaqāʾiq (plural of ḥaqīqa) which constitute its deepest meaning, and
not simply by the linguistic, logical, and theological procedures of the
ʿulamā aẓ-ẓāhir (literally the “doctors of the outward”) or doctors of
the sharīʿa, whose competence extends only to the exoteric realm. It is
a question here of two clearly different domains, and this is why there
can never be any contradiction or any real conflict between them; it is
moreover obvious that one cannot in any way oppose exoterism and
esoterism, since on the contrary the second finds its foundation and
point of departure in the first, and since they are really no more than
the two aspects or the two faces of one and the same doctrine.
We should also point out that contrary to an opinion only too
widespread among Westerners, Islamic esoterism has nothing
in common with “mysticism.” The reasons for this are easy to
understand given everything we have explained so far. First of all,
mysticism seems to be unique to Christianity, and it is only through
erroneous assimilations that one can pretend to find more or less exact
equivalents of it elsewhere. Some outward resemblances, in the use
of certain expressions for example, are undoubtedly the cause of this
error, but they can in no way justify it in light of differences that bear
on everything essential. Since by very definition mysticism pertains
entirely to the religious domain, it arises purely and simply from
exoterism; and furthermore, the end toward which it tends is assuredly
far from being of the order of pure knowledge. On the other hand, the
mystic could have no method since he has a “passive” attitude and, as
a result, limits himself to receiving what comes to him spontaneously
as it were and with no initiative on his part. Thus there cannot be any
mystical ṭarīqa, and such a thing is even inconceivable, for it is basically
contradictory. Moreover, the mystic, always isolated by the very fact
of the “passive” nature of his “realization,” has neither shaykh nor
“spiritual master” (who, of course, has absolutely nothing in common
with a “spiritual director” in the religious sense), neither does he have
a silsila or “chain” through which the “spiritual influence” would have
been transmitted to him (we use this expression to render as exactly as
possible the meaning of the Arabic word baraka), the second of these
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two things being moreover an immediate consequence of the first.
The regular transmission of the “spiritual influence” is what essentially
characterizes “initiation,” and even what properly constitutes it, and
that is why we have used this word above to translate taṣawwuf.
Islamic esoterism, like all true esoterism, moreover, is “initiatic” and
cannot be anything else; and even without entering into the question
of the difference of goals, which in any case results from the very
difference in the two domains to which they refer, we can say that
the “mystical way” and the “initiatic way” are radically incompatible
by reason of their respective characters, and we might also add that in
Arabic there is no word by which one can translate “mysticism” even
approximately, so much does the idea expressed thereby represent
something completely foreign to the Islamic tradition.*
In its essence, initiatic doctrine is purely metaphysical in the true
and original meaning of this term; but in Islam, as in other traditional
forms, it also includes a complex ensemble of “traditional sciences” by
way of more or less direct applications to various contingent realms.
These sciences are as if suspended from the metaphysical principles
on which they depend and from which they derive, and draw from
this attachment (and from the “transpositions” which it permits) all
their real value; they are thereby an integral part of the doctrine itself,
although to a secondary and subordinate degree, and not more or less
artificial and superfluous accretions. There seems to be something here
that is particularly difficult for Westerners to understand, doubtless
because their own environment offers no point of comparison in this
regard; nevertheless there were analogous Western sciences in antiquity
and the Middle Ages, but these are entirely forgotten by modern men,
who ignore the true nature of things and often are not even aware
of their existence. Those who confuse esoterism with mysticism are
especially prone to misunderstand the role and the place of these
sciences, which clearly represent a knowledge as far removed as can
be from the preoccupations of the mystics, so that the incorporation
* Editors’ Note: This question of terminology regarding the term “mysticism,”
as it is often understood in the West, and its application to Sufism is treated
in some depth in the selection in this volume by Titus Burckhardt (see the
section “Sufism and Mysticism” in the article “Sufi Doctrine and Method”).
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of these sciences into “Sufism” constitutes for them an undecipherable
enigma. Such is the science of numbers and of letters, of which we
gave an example in the interpretation of the term ṣūfī, and which, in
a comparable form, can be found only in the Hebrew Kabbala, by
virtue of the close affinity of the languages which are the vehicles of
expression for these two traditions, languages of which only this science
can give the most profound understanding. Such are also the various
“cosmological” sciences which are included in part in what is called
“Hermeticism”; and in this connection we must note that alchemy is
taken in a “material” sense only by the ignorant, for whom symbolism is
a dead letter, those very people whom the true alchemists of the Middle
Ages stigmatized as “puffers” and “charcoal burners,” and who were
the true precursors of modern chemistry, however unflattering such an
origin may be for the latter. Likewise astrology, another cosmological
science, is in reality something entirely other than the “divining art” or
the “science of conjecture” which alone is what modern people see in
it. Above all it has to do with the knowledge of “cyclical laws” which
play an important role in all traditional doctrines. Moreover, there
is a certain correspondence between all these sciences which, since
they proceed from essentially the same principles, may be regarded
as various representations of one and the same thing from a certain
point of view. Thus, astrology, alchemy, and even the science of letters
do nothing but translate the same truths into the languages proper
to different orders of reality, united among themselves by the law of
universal analogy, the foundation of every symbolic correspondence;
and, by virtue of this same analogy, these sciences, by an appropriate
transposition, find their application in the realm of the “microcosm” as
well as in that of the “macrocosm,” for the initiatic process reproduces
in all its phases the cosmological process itself. To have a full awareness
of all these correlations, it is necessary to have reached a very high
degree in the initiatic hierarchy, a degree which is called that of “red
sulfur” (al-Kebrīt al-aḥmar); and whoever possesses this degree may,
by means of the science known as sīmiyā (a word that must not be
confused with kīmiyā), and by operating certain mutations on letters
and numbers, act on the beings and things that correspond to these in
the cosmic order. Jafr, which according to tradition owes its origin to
Sayyidnā ʿAlī himself, is an application of these same sciences to the
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prevision of future events; and this application, in which the cyclical
laws to which we alluded just now naturally intervene, exhibits all
the rigor of an exact and mathematical science for those who can
understand and interpret it (for it possesses a kind of “cryptography,”
which in fact is no more astonishing than algebraic notation). One could
mention many other “traditional sciences,” some of which might seem
even stranger to those who are not used to such things; but we must
content ourselves with this, and restrict ourselves to generalities, in
keeping with the scope of this exposition.
Finally, we must add one last observation of capital importance
for understanding the true character of initiatic doctrine: this doctrine
has nothing to do with “erudition” and could never be learned by the
reading of books in the manner of ordinary or “profane” knowledge. The
writings of the greatest masters themselves can only serve as “supports”
for meditation; one does not become a mutaṣawwuf simply by having
read them, and in any case they remain mostly incomprehensible to
those who are not “qualified.” Indeed, it is necessary above all to possess
certain innate dispositions or aptitudes which no amount of effort can
replace; then, it is necessary to have an attachment to a regular silsila,
for the transmission of the “spiritual influence” that is obtained by this
attachment is, as we have already said, the essential condition, failing
which there is no initiation, even of the most elementary degree. This
transmission, which is acquired once and for all, must be the point of
departure of a purely inward work for which all the outward means
are no more than aids and supports, albeit necessary, given that one
must take the nature of the human being such as it actually is into
account; and it is by this inward work alone that a being, if capable
of it, will ascend from degree to degree, to the summit of the initiatic
hierarchy, to the “Supreme Identity,” the absolutely permanent and
unconditioned state beyond the limitations of all contingent and
transitory existence, which is the state of the true ṣūfī.
The Shell and the Kernel (Al-Qishr Wa Al-Lubb)
Al-Qishr wa al-Lubb [The Shell and the Kernel], the title of one of
Muḥyi ʾd-Dīn ibn al-ʿArabī’s numerous treatises, expresses in symbolic
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form the relationship between exoterism and esoterism, likened
respectively to the casing of a fruit and to its interior part, the pith
or kernel.2 The casing or shell (al-qishr) is the sharīʿa, that is, the
external religious law which is addressed to all and which is made to
be followed by all, as indicated moreover by the meaning of “great
way” that is associated with the derivation of its name. The kernel
(al-lubb) is the ḥaqīqa, that is to say truth or essential reality, which,
unlike the sharīʿa, is not within reach of everyone but reserved for
those who know how to discern it beneath outward appearances and
how to attain it through the exterior forms which conceal it, protecting
and disguising it at the same time.3 In another symbolism, sharīʿa and
ḥaqīqa are also designated respectively as the “[outer] body” (al-jism)
and the “marrow” (al-mukh),4 of which the relationship is exactly the
same as that of shell and kernel; and one could no doubt find still other
symbols equivalent to these.
Whatever the designation used, what is referred to is always the
“outward” (aẓ-ẓāhir) and the “inward” (al-bāṭin), that is, the apparent
and the hidden, which, moreover, are such by their very nature and
not owing to any conventions or to precautions taken artificially, if not
arbitrarily, by those who preserve traditional doctrine. This “outward”
and this “inward” are represented by the circumference and its center,
which can be looked upon as the cross-section of the fruit evoked by
the previous symbol, at the same time that we are brought back to
the image, common to all traditions, of the “wheel of things.” Indeed,
if one looks at the two terms in question according to their universal
sense and without limiting them by applying them to a particular
traditional form, as is most often done, one could say that the sharīʿa,
2
Let us point out incidentally that this symbol of the fruit has a relationship
with the “cosmic egg,” and thus with the heart.
3
One might remark that the role of exterior forms is related to the double
meaning of the word “revelation,” since such forms simultaneously manifest
and veil the essential doctrine, the one truth, just as a word inevitably does for
the thought it expresses; and what is true of a word in this regard is also true
of any formal expression.
4
One may recall here the “substantive marrow” of Rabelais, which also
represents an interior and hidden meaning.
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the “great way” traveled by all beings is nothing other than what the
Far-Eastern traditions call the “current of forms,” while the ḥaqīqa,
the one and immutable truth, resides in the “invariable middle.”5 In
order to pass from one to the other, thus from the circumference to
the center, one must follow one of the radii, that is, a ṭarīqa, or, one
might say, the “footpath,” the narrow way which is followed by very
few.6 Furthermore, there are besides a multitude of ṭuruq, which are
all radii of the circumference taken in the centripetal sense, since it
is a question of leaving the multiplicity of the manifested to move
toward principial unity; each ṭarīqa, starting from a certain point on
the circumference, is particularly adapted to those beings who find
themselves at that point, but whatever their point of departure, they
all tend equally toward one unique point,7 all arrive at the center and
thus lead the beings who follow them to the essential simplicity of the
“primordial state.”
The beings who presently find themselves in multiplicity are forced
to leave it in order to accomplish any realization whatsoever; but for
most of them this multiplicity is at the same time the obstacle that
stops them and holds them back; diverse and changing appearances
prevent them from seeing true reality, so to speak, as the casing of a
5
It is noteworthy that in the Far-Eastern tradition one finds very clear
equivalents to these two terms, not as two aspects, exoteric and esoteric,
of the same doctrine, but as two separate teachings, at least since the
time of Confucius and Lao Tzu. In fact, one might say in all strictness that
Confucianism corresponds to the sharīʿa and Taoism to the ḥaqīqa.
6
The words sharīʿa and ṭarīqa both contain the idea of “progressing,” and
thus of movement (and one should note the symbolism of circular movement
for the first term, and linear movement for the second); there is in fact change
and multiplicity in both cases, the first having to adapt itself to the diversity
of exterior conditions, and the second to that of individual natures; but the
being who has effectively attained ḥaqīqa, by that very fact participates in its
unity and immutability.
7
This convergence is represented by that of the qibla (ritual orientation) of
all places toward the Kaʿba, which is the “House of God” (Baytu ʾLlah) and
of which the form is a cube (the image of stability) occupying the center
of a circumference that is the terrestrial (human) cross-section of universal
existence.
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fruit prevents one from seeing its inside; and this inside can be attained
only by those capable of piercing through the casing, that is, of seeing
the Principle through its manifestation, and even of seeing it alone in
all things, for manifestation itself, taken all together, is no more than
a totality of symbolic expressions. It is easy to apply this to exoterism
and esoterism understood in their ordinary sense, that is, as aspects of a
traditional doctrine; there also, the exterior forms hide profound truth
from the eyes of the common man, whereas on the contrary they may
be seen by the elite, for whom what seems an obstacle or a limitation to
others becomes instead a support and a means of realization. One must
clearly understand that this difference results directly and necessarily
from the very nature of the beings, from the possibilities and aptitudes
that each carries within itself, so much so that for each of them the
exoteric side of the doctrine thus always plays exactly the role that it
should, giving to those that cannot go further what it is possible for
them to receive in their present state, and at the same time furnishing
to those that can go further, “supports,” which, without ever being a
strict necessity, since they are contingent, can nonetheless greatly aid
them to advance in the interior life, and without which the difficulties
would be such that, in certain cases, they would amount to a veritable
impossibility.
We should point out in this regard that for the majority of men,
that is, for those who inevitably abide by exterior law, this takes on a
character which is less a limitation than a guide; it is always a bond, but
a bond that prevents them from going astray or from losing themselves;
without this law, which obliges them to follow a well-defined path, not
only would they never attain the center, but they would risk distancing
themselves indefinitely from it, whereas the circular movement keeps
them at a more or less constant distance.8 In this way, those who
cannot directly contemplate the light can receive at least a reflection of
and a participation in it; and they remain thus bound in some way to
the Principle, even though they do not and could not have an effective
8
Let us add that this law ought to be regarded normally as an application
or a human specification of the cosmic law itself, which similarly links all
manifestation to the Principle, as we have explained elsewhere in reference
to the significance of the “laws of Manu” in Hindu doctrine.
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consciousness of it. Indeed, the circumference could not exist without
the center, from which, in reality, it proceeds entirely, and even if the
beings who are linked to the circumference do not see the center at
all, or even the radii, each of them is nonetheless inevitably situated
at the extremity of a radius of which the other extremity is the center
itself. But it is here that the shell intervenes and hides whatever is
found in the interior, whereas the one who has pierced this shell, by
that very fact becoming conscious of the path or radius corresponding
to his own position on the circumference, will be liberated from the
indefinite rotation of the latter and will only have to follow the radius
in order to move toward the center; this radius is the ṭarīqa by which,
starting from the sharīʿa, he will arrive at ḥaqīqa. We must make clear,
moreover, that once the shell has been penetrated, one finds oneself
in the domain of esoterism, this penetration, by its relationship to
the shell itself, being a kind of turning about, of which the passage
from the exterior to the interior consists. In one sense the designation
“esoterism” belongs even more properly to ṭarīqa, for in reality ḥaqīqa
is beyond the distinction of exoterism and esoterism, as this implies
comparison and correlation; the center, of course, appears as the most
interior part of all, but when it has been attained there can no longer
be a question of exterior or interior, as every contingent distinction
then disappears, resolving itself in principial unity.
That is why Allah, just as He is “the First and the Last” (al-Awwal
wa al-Ākhir),9 is also “the Exterior and the Interior” (aẓ-Ẓāhir wa al­
Bāṭin),10 for nothing of that which is could be outside of Him, and
in Him alone is contained all reality, because He is Himself absolute
Reality, and total Truth: Huwa ʾl-Ḥaqq.
9
That is, the Principle and the End, as in the symbol of the alpha and the
omega.
10
One could also translate this as the “Evident” (in relationship to
manifestation) and the “Hidden” (in Himself ), which correspond again to the
two points of view of the sharīʿa (the social and religious order) and ḥaqīqa
(the purely intellectual and metaphysical order), although this latter may also
be said to be beyond all points of view, as comprising them all synthetically
within itself.
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“Ḥaqīqa and Sharīʿa in Islam” by René Guénon
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